"God, why didn't they get the message! I don't want to talk to them," Death yelled in frustration.
This was the fifth time this hour Jordy and John have tried to contact him for some unimportant reason. How many times do I have to tell them there's no WiFi here.
"Well I don't know how they didn't get the message, but asking me won't help your situation," a voice sounded behind the cloaked figure.
"Ha ha, very funny. I swear your dad jokes are getting worse every century."
"Being God does give me some time to think. Hey how's the island issue going?"
"Eh, it's not my cup of tea, but it pays the bills."
"No deaths this time?"
"I bet that by tomorrow I'll have another soul under my belt."
God scoffed, "That fast? I bet that you'll be out of a job there."
"Is that a challenge?"
"Yes, it is."
"Alright big guy, you're on. If I win, you'll fork up twenty dollars. If I lose, I'll give you twenty dollars."
"Deal."
Once again, Death had been perusing about the isolated island, watching and waiting for an opportunity to collect. He knew that fate would lead him back to this place fairly soon.
"God better have his twenty bucks ready because I just won the bet," Death bragged to himself. Now who am I taking? Please let it be one of those assholes.
Jacquelyn Luck
The name was written in black ink in the small notebook Death carried. Death sighed, knowing that a poor girl was the next one up. Man, if only he had a say in who gets offed, he would have eliminated No Shirt November and Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends a long time ago. But sadly, he had to watch the Council tally up votes of who would be killed Survivor style and watch them make petty bets on who they think was the "strongest" human. Death always scoffed at the fact that they had nothing better to do than judge foolish humans on how they lived their lives. Why didn't they do something productive like bring on a new black plague or YouTube challenge? Death's soul collection grew tenfold from the idiotic cinnamon challenge a few years back.
"Well, a job's a job," Death mused before going to search for the girl.
He eventually found her resting in the water, "Ah, what a pity. She was nice looking too," he whispered at the sight of Jacquelyn sinking down into the deep ocean.
Jackie's ghostly form appeared a few minutes later above the spot her body sank. She looked around until she spotted Death, hesitantly moving closer to him, "H-hello. I'm Jackie. Are you here to take me?"
Death gave her a sad smile, "Yes, I am."
"Will I get to see my mother?"
"Yes, you will."
"Thank you. All I want is to be with her."
"Don't worry, she'll be there when you cross over."
Jackie looked out over the island, "I'll miss them. Grant and Adrianna and the rest."
The bright door of light opened and provided a warmth that beckoned Jackie to go into it. She took small steps before fading away, her soul flying off to the Heaven where her mother resides.
Death was in silence once again. He traveled over to the shore and swirled a finger in the cool sand. This game--no matter how much he enjoyed the payload--needed to end fast. He couldn't continue watching innocent souls pass on prematurely. Death used his finger to write a message in the sand, hoping someone would see it soon.
STRONGEST CHARACTER: BROOKLYN WHITE
ELIMINATED: JACQUELYN LUCK
"God, why didn't they get the message! I don't want to talk to them," Death yelled in frustration.
This was the fifth time this hour Jordy and John have tried to contact him for some unimportant reason.
How many times do I have to tell them there's no WiFi here.
"Well I don't know how they didn't get the message, but asking me won't help your situation," a voice sounded behind the cloaked figure.
"Ha ha, very funny. I swear your dad jokes are getting worse every century."
"Being God does give me some time to think. Hey how's the island issue going?"
"Eh, it's not my cup of tea, but it pays the bills."
"No deaths this time?"
"I bet that by tomorrow I'll have another soul under my belt."
God scoffed, "That fast? I bet that you'll be out of a job there."
"Is that a challenge?"
"Yes, it is."
"Alright big guy, you're on. If I win, you'll fork up twenty dollars. If I lose, I'll give you twenty dollars."
"Deal."
Once again, Death had been perusing about the isolated island, watching and waiting for an opportunity to collect. He knew that fate would lead him back to this place fairly soon.
"God better have his twenty bucks ready because I just won the bet," Death bragged to himself.
Now who am I taking? Please let it be one of those assholes.
Jacquelyn Luck
The name was written in black ink in the small notebook Death carried. Death sighed, knowing that a poor girl was the next one up. Man, if only he had a say in who gets offed, he would have eliminated No Shirt November and Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends a long time ago. But sadly, he had to watch the Council tally up votes of who would be killed Survivor style and watch them make petty bets on who they think was the "strongest" human. Death always scoffed at the fact that they had nothing better to do than judge foolish humans on how they lived their lives. Why didn't they do something productive like bring on a new black plague or YouTube challenge? Death's soul collection grew tenfold from the idiotic cinnamon challenge a few years back.
"Well, a job's a job," Death mused before going to search for the girl.
He eventually found her resting in the water, "Ah, what a pity. She was nice looking too," he whispered at the sight of Jacquelyn sinking down into the deep ocean.
Jackie's ghostly form appeared a few minutes later above the spot her body sank. She looked around until she spotted Death, hesitantly moving closer to him, "H-hello. I'm Jackie. Are you here to take me?"
Death gave her a sad smile, "Yes, I am."
"Will I get to see my mother?"
"Yes, you will."
"Thank you. All I want is to be with her."
"Don't worry, she'll be there when you cross over."
Jackie looked out over the island, "I'll miss them. Grant and Adrianna and the rest."
The bright door of light opened and provided a warmth that beckoned Jackie to go into it. She took small steps before fading away, her soul flying off to the Heaven where her mother resides.
Death was in silence once again. He traveled over to the shore and swirled a finger in the cool sand. This game--no matter how much he enjoyed the payload--needed to end fast. He couldn't continue watching innocent souls pass on prematurely. Death used his finger to write a message in the sand, hoping someone would see it soon.
Survival of the fittest is bullshit. Just live.